This dock with shelter had a sign on it that said “New Hope Landing” in the 1930s. There was a little dirt road (rather scary) that ran from just south of New Hope, over the bridge at the top of Carpenter’s Falls, across some farmer’s fields, then turned left and straight down the hill toward Carpenter’s Point. Then it was a sharp left (north) out on to the point to the four or five cottages, rented out to the same families, mostly from the Philadelphia area, and run by Mr Montross. Or it turned right (south) and went only as far as the six or eight little cottages, which were also rented, but to younger and more local people, like teachers who had their summers off.
Our camp was between the two groups, or at the intersection. When cars were ready to start UP the hill, they would sit at this spot, race their engines, toot their horns loud and long, if all clear, roar up the hill, spinning out stones and hoping no cars were descending. If there were any coming down, one hoped they knew who had the right-of-way. For if you stopped, you then had to back all the way down and get a new running start!
Elsie, Your comments are solid gold. Thank you so much!
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